


Reassignment

by lachatblanche



Series: Dollhouse AU [13]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Blood, Consent Issues, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2012-11-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 18:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unwilling to let anything slow down his investigation, Erik eventually discovers something that changes the whole nature of the case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

‘Oh _fuck_!’

Erik had to step aside as Raven shoved past him and dry-retched against the wall, her whole body shaking and heaving with every ragged breath that she took.

He himself couldn’t move. He was rooted to the spot. All he could do was stand there and stare at the mess in front of him. The horrific, bloody mess that had once been the walking, talking, living body of Keith Brown a.k.a Carl Goldman.

‘Oh my God,’ Raven was saying. ‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my _God_ -’

‘Shut _up_!’ Erik hissed, jerking his hand at her to stay silent. ‘Be quiet! I need to think!’

‘ _Think?_ ’ Raven asked hysterically. ‘The guy was freaking _murdered_! What the _fuck_ is there to think about?’

‘Our explanation for being here, for a start,’ Erik said harshly, still not able to peel his eyes away from the corpse in front of him. This was it, he thought wildly. This was their one clue and now they had lost it. The corpse couldn’t be more than a day old. A day. They had lost out by a fucking _day_.

Raven lifted her head from where she had been dry-heaving in the corner.

‘Uh – this may be a really dumb question, but – why can’t we just tell the truth?’

Erik pulled himself away from his inner tirade to give her a flat look.

‘Because that’s a _great_ idea,’ he said sarcastically, his lip curled into a sneer. ‘Truly exceptional. “You see, Officer, we received an anonymous tip in the post yesterday that had to do with our secret hush-hush investigation into the possibly non-existent Dollhouse, and we realised that nearly every person on the list had been brutally murdered but we didn’t do anything about it because _one_ of us was on a _date_!”’

‘Oi!’ Raven shot right up, anger suffusing her face as she jabbed her finger at Erik. ‘Don’t you go blaming that on _me_! We didn’t find out that they’d been murdered till ages after! And I don’t see what’s so bad about saying all of that when it’s _true_!’

Erik closed his eyes and rubbed at his face with his hands.

‘Yes, well, sometimes the truth isn’t the best thing to say,’ he said gruffly, wincing at his own words. At Raven’s look of disbelief, he shrugged. ‘Look, it’s not like this is an official investigation – and in any case _you’re_ a civilian.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s complicated. But trust me when I say that telling the truth here? It won’t help us.’

Raven was looking vaguely dazed.

‘I don’t know, Erik,’ she said, sounding tired. ‘I don’t know if I can do this. Lie, I mean. To the police.’

Erik clenched his jaw, feeling the beginnings of a migraine coming on.

‘Fine,’ he said abruptly, turning to face her. ‘You go home then. I’ll stay here and deal with things.’

Raven stared at him.

‘…What?’ she asked after a moment.

‘Yes,’ Erik was nodding to himself, ‘It’s better that way. Things will be less complicated if you aren’t here. You go, and I’ll call this in. Say that I stumbled onto a lead somehow. They’ll believe me. Believe it or not, I was quite a well-respected detective before I stumbled onto the Dollhouse.’

‘Right,’ Raven said, looking slightly ill. She glanced up at Erik, and for the first time ever she looked completely unsure of herself. ‘You’re certain about this?’ she asked, biting her lip. ‘You’re absolutely sure that everything will be fine?’

‘Yes,’ Erik nodded, projecting a certainty that he really did not feel. ‘I am sure. Now _go_.’

And with one last look at Erik, Raven nodded, turned around, and fled out of the door.

Erik watched the doorway for a minute before sighing and turning around to face the blood-soaked apartment. He stared at the corpse for a moment, his professional gaze lingering contemplatively on the body in front of him. He then straightened up and, taking a moment to tug at his shirt so that it was neat and straight, reached down into his left trouser pocket and pulled out his phone.

He paused for a moment before lifting the phone up. Then, taking a deep breath, he began to dial.

 

*****

 

Things changed after that. Raven and Erik spent just as much time together as before but now there were fractures beginning to show that Erik didn’t have the slightest clue how to fix. He watched in silence as Raven seemed to grow more and more agitated, her anxiety and nervous energy expressing itself in often-violent mood-swings and tempers.

The murder seemed to prey upon her mind almost constantly, colouring all of their interactions. Sometimes she would urge Erik to abandon the investigation, pressing him to leave things well and alone, for her sake if not for his own. A little later, however, she would turn around and, almost sizzling with impatience, bark that they weren’t getting anywhere in their search, and that they needed to move faster and make more tangible progress, the words ‘ _before someone else is murdered_ ’ hanging heavy in the air, unsaid. 

Worst of all, however, were the times that Erik would find Raven staring at him. Sometimes there would be a hopelessly lost, vulnerable expression on her face, as if she had no idea what she was doing there with him. Other times there was a considering, evaluative look in her eye. But sometimes, when he would glance up suddenly and meet her eyes before she could turn away, there would be look of something terribly akin to hatred on her face; a sharp-burning anger, as if she blamed him for making her a part of this business, for allowing the dark shadow of murder to enter her normally bright and happy world. For all that she talked smart, she was still just a young girl, and there were some things that just couldn’t be shaken off easily. This was no longer a game anymore; even Raven recognised that things started being a lot less fun when murder was involved.

Erik mostly just left her alone at these times. He knew that he should do more; that he should try to talk to her, find out what she was feeling and help her through it … but he didn’t. He’d tried – he honestly had – but Raven’s monosyllabic grunts and glares had immediately put him off the idea. He had even subtly – or not so subtly, as it turned out – suggested that she visit a therapist to talk through her reactions to seeing a dead body, but Raven’s look of scorn and her subsequent slew of inventive swear words had nipped that idea in the bud as well. In the end Erik decided that the best thing to do was to just leave her alone and let her come to him when she was ready.

It took a while, but eventually his strategy succeeded.

A few days after the stabbing, Erik looked up from the pile of papers on his lap to see Raven standing at his side, looking slightly uncertain. He slowly straightened up and, moving his papers aside, turned to look at her.

‘I’m not okay,’ she abruptly began before he could say anything. ‘What happened in that apartment … that’s not okay. It’s so far from okay that it’s not even funny. But I also get that it’s not your fault or anything, and I realise that I forced you to make me a part of this so … so I guess what I’m saying is that I’m sorry for being such a bitch these last couple of days. You – you didn’t deserve it.’

Erik’s expression didn’t change.

‘So … yeah,’ Raven said, fidgeting awkwardly and looking down at her feet. ‘That’s what I wanted to say.’ She turned around to leave.

Erik let out a sigh.

‘Raven,’ he said tiredly, ‘Just – stay a minute.’ He waited until Raven had reluctantly turned around before continuing, ‘I don’t want you to apologise. I just – I want you to be okay. I want to know that you are all right.’

Raven’s expression faltered at that before she gave him a wry look.

‘Well I don’t know about that,’ she said dryly, ‘But if you’re worried that I’ll fall apart? Don’t be.’ She straightened up. ‘I’m stronger than you would think.’

Erik nodded but he continued to frown.

‘I know,’ he said, his expression troubled, ‘But that’s not the point.’ He looked up at her then. ‘The point is that I shouldn’t have involved you in this. This case – this whole thing is _my_ problem. You should never have been anywhere near this, but I allowed it, against my better judgement. I keep forgetting that you’re only young, that you’re just a girl. No, Raven,’ he continued before Raven could voice her indignation, ‘What you saw in that apartment – that’s the least of it. Things are getting dangerous now, and I can’t let you be a part of that.’ He met her eyes steadily. ‘I’m sorry, Raven, but I can’t allow you to work with me on this anymore.’

At first Raven looked furious. Her eyes narrowed into slits and her nostrils flared, her body a taut line of anger. But, as Erik continued to look into her eyes unflinchingly, she suddenly deflated, her hands unclenching and her eyes lowering in resignation.

‘You’re right,’ she said reluctantly, ‘I – I didn’t want to admit it but this whole case has been weighing on me. It’s … harder than I thought that it would be. And I agree – I shouldn’t be so involved in everything. I still want to know about case,’ she said sharply, when Erik let out a sigh of relief, ‘But maybe just the highlights. And stuff.’

‘And stuff,’ Erik agreed dryly, but he couldn’t keep the relief out of his voice. ‘Agreed.’

Raven, however, was looking at him, an odd expression on her face.

‘Not many people really care about me,’ she said abruptly, causing Erik to stare at her, nonplussed. ‘Not many people would be so … you know. Be so concerned and want to look out for me and stuff. Apart from my brother, that is, but it’s not like he can …’ she trailed off and shook her head almost angrily before taking a deep breath. ‘Never mind. I guess what I mean to say is: thanks. You know. For giving a shit, and all that.’

Erik stared at her for a moment longer before slowly lowering his head in acknowledgement.

‘You’re welcome,’ he said quietly.

Raven gave a jerky nod at that and looked at the ground.

There was a moment of silence.

‘So …’ Raven said after a pause, breaking the spell. ‘Now what?’

Erik glanced over at the clock on his wall and sighed. 

‘Now?’ he said. ‘Now I go to work.’

Following his discovery of Carl Goldman’s body and his identifying the link between Goldman and the four other murders, Erik had been automatically reinstated to his former position within the police department and had been put in charge of the investigation. His colleagues seemed to be under the impression that his obsession with the Dollhouse had finally blown over, and Erik was in no hurry to correct them.

‘Congratulations, by the way,’ Raven smiled at him as he stood up, ‘On ditching the grunt-work and going back to being Mr. Awesome-Police-Detective again. I’m happy for you.’

Erik gave her a nod of thanks.

‘Besides,’ Raven added thoughtfully, ‘We can work this to our advantage.’

Erik raised an eyebrow at that even as he pulled on his coat.

‘Well,’ Raven said slowly, ‘Now that this is an open case you can use official resources to find out more about these guys – you know, stuff you couldn’t do when you were lone-wolfing it. Like – I don’t know – pull their telephone records and bank statements and stuff.’

Erik’s mouth twitched at that.

‘We’ll make a detective of you yet,’ he murmured. He then gestured to the doorway, ‘Lead the way, Miss Marple.’

‘After you, Sherlock,’ Raven replied in her snootiest voice, before letting out a giggle.

Erik smiled and shut the door behind them.

They were going to be okay.

 

*****

 

They were more than okay.

‘Raven, you little genius,’ Erik murmured as he scanned the records in front of him, feeling a swell of triumph well up in his gut. 

He had pulled the dead men’s telephone and bank records, just as Raven had suggested, and while the phone records hadn’t yet given up anything useful, the bank records had all but yielded gold.

‘Look,’ he told her later, feverishly laying the pages out on the table in front of him. ‘These are copies of each of the men’s financial records – not their public ones, understand, but their personal and executive accounts – and believe me when I say that these were _very_ difficult to get. It’s only for the fact that this is a murder enquiry and because all the requisitioned records belonged to dead men that we got to see them at all. But here,’ he grasped Raven by the arm and pulled her closer. ‘Look at all of them. See anything that they have in common?’

Raven was silent for a moment as she scrutinised the statements in front of her. Erik watched her face closely as she did, and he smiled grimly as he saw Raven’s eyes widen.

‘That name!’ she exclaimed, looking again to check that she was right. ‘That name is on every single one of the statements!’

Erik nodded. 

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘And not just once either. ‘Some of them seem to be paying money into this account several times a month.’

‘But – this is _amazing_!’ Raven exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. ‘We’re doing it! We’re getting closer. We have a fucking _name_!’

Erik couldn’t help but smile at that.

‘Yes, we do,’ he murmured. He squeezed Raven’s shoulder as he looked down on the bank statements in front of him, and his expression changed from one of pleasure to one of raw determination. ‘We do indeed. And I, for one, am very much looking forward to meeting this Doctor Klaus Schmidt.’


	2. Chapter 2

Klaus Schmidt didn’t exist. Or rather, he _had_ existed once, but had then mysteriously disappeared over twenty years ago, never to be heard from again.

Until now, that is.

‘“Klaus Schmidt, the renowned German scientist has been officially declared missing”,’ Raven read aloud, raising an eyebrow at the two-decade-old article in front of her. ‘It says here that he was a promising young scientist in Germany with his whole future ahead of him when he suddenly disappeared without a trace.’

‘What sort of scientist was he?’ Erik asked absent-mindedly, glancing at the article that Raven was holding. The face in the picture, blurry and unfocused as it was, looked vaguely familiar.

‘Neurological,’ Raven answered, turning around when Erik went still. ‘It means he’s a brain scientist.’

‘I know what “neurological” means, Raven,’ Erik snapped. ‘That wasn’t why I reacted. This Schmidt specialised in human brains … and from what I can tell, the Dollhouse would need someone with that kind of expertise in order to do the sort of things that they are doing. Right?’

‘So you think this Schmidt guy is responsible for – what? – creating the Dollhouse?’ Raven asked, frowning even as she sat up straight in her seat.

Erik shrugged.

‘It’s certainly possible,’ he said grimly. ‘Although he is just as likely to have been kidnapped and made to work for the Dollhouse, who are now using his name to smooth out their financial transactions. Or else they may have killed him.’

Raven’s face twitched.

‘I think I’ll stick with the first idea, thanks’ she said firmly, glaring down at the blurred picture of the man in the article. ‘You know, the one that says that this is our bad guy and that he’s the reason why we’re doing this in the first place.’

Erik’s eyes unconsciously drifted over to where the picture of Charles Xavier was stuck to the wall. He frowned, still slightly doubtful.

‘I don’t know,’ he said, looking troubled. ‘This man … he hasn’t been seen or heard from in over twenty years. That’s a _long_ time. God knows where he is now … if he’s even alive, that is. There’s no trail whatsoever – nothing at all since his disappearance. It would be impossible to find him. He could still be in Germany, for all we know.’

‘What about his bank account details?’ Raven pressed.

Erik shook his head.

‘We can’t tell,’ he said, grimacing. ‘It leads to a numbered account in the Cayman Islands. Which then leads to another account in the Bahamas. Which then leads to another account in Zurich. Which then-’

‘All right, all right, I get it,’ Raven scowled. She glared once more at the faded picture of Schmidt in the article. ‘Bastard.’

Erik seemed to echo her sentiment.

‘I’m not even sure we’ll ever be able to find him,’ he confessed with great reluctance. ‘The trail – whatever there is of it – is probably too cold to be of any use and the fact that it’d be a paper trail as opposed to an electronic one …’ He shook his head. ‘I’m afraid that finding Schmidt would be nigh on impossible.’

Raven pursed her lips at that.

‘Maybe,’ she said, unwilling to give up so easily, ‘But that doesn’t keep us from trying.’

Erik nodded, smiling grimly.

‘I’ll find out _something_ about this Klaus Schmidt,’ he promised her. ‘One way or another, I will find him.’

And Raven looked at him and believed him.

*****

A week later, and a third brown envelope appeared under Erik’s door.

It happened in almost exactly the same way as the last time: Erik was out jogging, Raven was asleep, and there were no signs of forced entry anywhere in the building. The envelope was once again hand-delivered and was completely free of fingerprints. Finally, just like the others, it too contained just one piece of paper, this one like the first: a photograph with a name written in thick black marker at the bottom.

‘Oh my god,’ Raven gasped when she saw the picture in front of her, Erik holding it out with a very grim expression on his face.

The picture showed the smug, smiling face of one of the most influential men in recent times, whose features closely resembled those found in the faded, blurry photograph of Dr. Klaus Schmidt from an article that was over twenty years old. A man who seemed to have gone missing in Germany more than twenty years before, only to suddenly appear half-way across the world, completely transformed into someone wealthier and more powerful than anyone could ever have predicted.

The picture showed a well-respected scientist, philanthropist and business entrepreneur, whose infamously top-secret laboratories were the envy of scientific communities and pharmaceutical companies the world over. It showed the man who had created the Shaw Foundation, a clandestine, progressive scientific think-tank that was referenced in newspapers world-wide at least every other day.

The picture showed the man that was responsible for the disappearance of Charles Xavier, Magda, and countless other men and women across the world; all of them innocent people who had been lured into the sinister and almost mythical Dollhouse and made to serve the whims and pleasures of the unscrupulous and perverted rich.

The picture showed the face of none other than Sebastian Shaw, a.k.a Doctor Klaus Schmidt, the one man that was responsible for the whole damn fucked-up mess and all the fucking shitty things that came after it.

 

Erik and Raven, pulling their eyes away from the damning picture in front of them, turned to each other and shared a glance. This glance communicated the exact same thing that was running through each of their minds. 

They were, without a single doubt, completely and royally fucked.


End file.
